


if I told you, would you say the same?

by hikari (sincerelysame)



Category: Haikyuu!!, ハイパープロジェクション演劇「ハイキュー!!」| Hyper Projection Play "Haikyuu!!" RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-26 01:27:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16672150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sincerelysame/pseuds/hikari
Summary: "I always wanted to play with your hair."





	if I told you, would you say the same?

"I always wanted to play with your hair."

Keiji turns from where he's nestled against Koutarou's temple.

"Hm?"

It's late into the afternoon, or maybe early evening, the brief stretch of time before dusk. The week after finals and before the start of the next term is a relief that they're spending in Koutarou's dorm room. Kuroo, with a similar idea in mind, has wandered off to Kenma's for the break while Keiji had abandoned Chikara in their shared apartment to do the same the second their art theory finals ended.

Chikara would forgive him. (It's not like Tanaka wouldn't take the opportunity.)

Which leads them to this moment, loosely wrapped around each other in a bed that hasn't been made in days and a room that should really be aired but can't be bother to be.

Keiji blinks slow in dazed, sleepy confusion.

"Back in high school. I really wanted to play with your hair."

Koutarou has his fingers dragging into his scalp, light scratching and small tugs on the tips of his messy bedhead.

Keiji, who initially had been on the verge of quietly napping, is still sleep-slow, squinting at the crinkles forming in the corners of Koutarou's eyes.

"My... hair?"

Which is why he startles badly when Koutarou suddenly flips them over. It's not as dramatic as it could have been, since Keiji is already half on Koutarou's chest, part on the mattress, with his legs in a mish-mash tangle with Kou's. It's more of a flailing than a flip but Keiji does end up with his back on the warmed cushions, Koutarou hovering over him with his forearms on either side of his head. With the way Koutarou's legs are weighing his own down, it's a very effective cage.

Koutarou is still pulling at the ends of his hair.

"It's just so cute, you know? Curly and soft-looking. You always look like you just got out of bed."

Well, Koutarou isn't wrong.

Keiji is, for the most part, quite observant. It's a bit of a given as a setter, making quick, smart decisions at glance. He knew Koutarou was touchier with him, whiny and demanding and just plain... grabby. It was adorable and devastatingly difficult to resist. But while Keiji knew, he never did understand exactly why. Keiji had assumed because he was the team's setter, that he was the underclassman that Bokuto-san had imprinted on, the one who was most long-suffering.

It was Komi who was a ruffler, though. As a first year, one of Keiji's first interactions with Komi was a few gentle pats on his head after a great receive. During his second year, it had escalated to aggressive noogies.

The soft tugs Koutarou is doing is drastically different from that, though. He keeps watching Koutarou watch him.

"Why didn't you?" Keiji breathes out, pushing further into the touch.

"Because it would be weird!"

"Komi-san did it all the time."

Koutarou's stroking stills for a bit before continuing with slightly more force. Not much but noticeable enough.

"Yeah. He did."

Keiji closes his eyes and hums. The sun has settled low in the sky. They should probably turn on some lights. But it's sunshine-cozy in this teeny space and Koutarou hasn't stopped indulging in what he has admitted as a high school fantasy of sorts. It's sweet. Keiji smiles.

"I wouldn't have gotten upset with you, you know."

Because Koutarou really should have. Keiji may have been more stoic a year or so ago for appearances sake, since it was unbecoming and even a little pathetic for him to be so lenient and accommodating towards one (dazzling) boy, but he had always been soft on Koutarou. Always.

(He might not have been able to handle such affection.)

Koutarou's fingers dig deep into his skin.

"I know."

They stay like that for a long while. It's dangerously comfortable.

"It felt too much like taking advantage of you."

Keiji cracks an eye open and sees Koutarou staring down at him.

"I liked you. Like you. If I touched you like that, knowing what it means to me... and thinking that it doesn't mean the same to you... I couldn't do it."

The syrupy lethargy drips away as Keiji opens his eyes fully. This boy, who has been sun and dreams and light for Keiji...

"I've always wanted to pinch your cheeks."

Koutarou stops his absentminded fondling again but Keiji doesn't want him to stop. Not tonight nor tomorrow or ever.

"When you pout, you puff your cheeks out like a chipmunk. I wanted to poke them."

Keiji hesitates to demonstrate but since Koutarou has already grasped what he wanted from Keiji, had it in his hands without even thinking, hair, heart, soul;  Keiji reaches out to claim what he's wondered about since he was a freshman.

The meat of Koutarou's face is not as bulging as it was when he was a cute highschooler in the smack middle of puberty but there's a satisfying give to it when Keiji sinks his finger harder.

Koutarou is wide-eyed and open-mouthed. Keiji props himself up by the elbows and presses a kiss to the skin of his cheekbone before plopping back down on the mattress.

The motion shakes Koutarou awake.

"Keeeeeeeeeeeeeijiiiiiiiiiiiiiii-"

Keiji keeps grinning.

Koutarou snuffles into the crook of Keiji's neck and continues to whine.

It's getting darker, the red-orange light from the partially covered window growing dimmer, more purplish.

"If I told you I also wanted to suck hickeys over your arms, would you let me, Koutarou-san?"

There's an abrupt, sharp tug on Keiji's hair. Keiji gasps, his eyelids fluttering in surprise.

"I'd always wondered what sound you'd make if I did that." Koutarou mutters to his stuttering pulse as he starts on the skin of Keiji's neck.


End file.
